Ghazal 354

With your dark eyelashes you made a thousand breaches in my faith —

come, that from your sick eyes I may gather a thousand remedies.

O you, the heart's companion, your friends have gone from memory —

may I never have that moment when I sit without remembering you.

The world is old and without foundation — from this Farhad-killing, I cry out —

for its sorcery and tricks have wearied me of my sweet life.

From the heat of the fire of distance, I am drenched in sweat like a rose —

bring, O night-breeze, a breeze from that sweat-band of mine.

The mortal and eternal world I sacrifice to the beauty and the cupbearer —

for I see the sovereignty of the world as a parasite of love.

If the friend chooses another in my place — she is the ruler —

may it be forbidden to me if I choose life over the friend.

Good morning! sang the nightingale — where are you, cupbearer? Arise —

for the image of last night's sleep is making a tumult in my head.

On the night of departure, I will go from my bed to the palace of the houris —

if at the time of giving up my life you are the candle at my pillow.

The tale of longing that was recorded in this letter —

is surely without error, for Hafez gave me the dictation.